


Love can touch us one time (and last for a lifetime)

by StarkDusted



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Titanic (1997)
Genre: Along with Howard, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, And Tony is Rose, Because Howard Stark is an asshole, Because a friend and I adore Titanic, Because otherwise things get too complicated if it was period typical, Bucky's Jack Dawson really, But Tony also helped make the Titanic, Fluff and Smut, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, I'm still figuring out where this is going, Imagine 1980s outlook on homosexuality, M/M, Not just the movie, Not period typical attitudes, Possible Character Death, RMS Titanic, The actual ship and its history, This is a fanfic and creative license is included and allowed, This is literally just a Titanic AU, Tony Stark Bingo 2018, Tony Stark Has Issues, Why?, because I can do that, eletism, however, maybe some smut, more character and relationship tags to be added!, please be patient with me, there is still, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkDusted/pseuds/StarkDusted
Summary: An obligatory WinterIron Titanic AU. Has this been done yet?The entire hall length was packed full.People were shoving by, voices carrying over the distance. Some were slipping into their rooms, where several bunks were lined up along walls, fitted with simple sheets and amenities to store personal artefacts. Children were weaving by his legs, some stopping to stare at him, because most first-classers were bound to stay upstairs until this had cleared and everyone was settled in. Tony, in a full tux, with a waistcoat beneath his outer suit coat, bow tie, coattails and slicked back hair, looked like he didn’t belong in this group. Everyone here was running around in plain shirts, slacks and suspenders, or dresses and overcoats and cardigans draped over shoulders and patterned shawls.The only thing heard above the hustle of the crowd around him was the sound of the horn piercing the air.Two long, drawn out blasts of the horn to be specific, and Tony knew what that meant.Leaving berth. The Titanic was moving.





	Love can touch us one time (and last for a lifetime)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashlynn my Titanic Winteriron obsessed friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ashlynn+my+Titanic+Winteriron+obsessed+friend).



> Alright! Here I go again, dedicating myself to another long as hell fic- and you can tell it's going to be long, because there's a lot to go through. Anyhow, this work is unbeta'd, and the updates will be sporadic, because I'm still plotting out things, though I do have a general plan for things. If you have any ideas or things you want to see, feel free to drop it into a comment! I've had a friend to consult on this already, and she's helped a lot with figuring out little bits to put in to make things more interesting! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This fills my free square on my bingo card!

They call the Titanic the ship of dreams.

In a way, Tony supposes, it is. Years of work has been funnelled into this, sitting up in the late/early hours, drawing schematics, from the whole picture to the tiniest of puzzle pieces that make up the ship in its entirety that seeing it now in the flesh, gleaming painted steel in the sunlight as he stands on the docks and stares up? _Feels_ like a dream. His father had come to him with the ideas years ago, when competition in this sort of business began getting fierce, and the White Star line had been wanting to bat back the competition with the idea that speed wasn’t necessarily the best selling point, no, not at all.

The Titanic was never designed to be fast. It was designed to be the _largest_ and most luxurious, a holiday away on the ocean, turning a simple journey into something much more than just a ferrying across the seas to America.

It was a large project, but it was the type of project Tony had always been itching to get his hands on, having followed in his father’s footsteps, as much an architect as he was a mechanical and electrical engineer. The Titanic was the grandest ship there ever was, and Tony had been an integral part to her making. His father liked to call her unsinkable, as much as Tony constantly refuted it. Knock on wood, Tony would say, Christ, it was like his dad didn’t have a superstitious bone in his body. Tony, having grown up more under his mother’s care, couldn’t quite shake such superstitions though he was always logical beyond all else- but that wasn’t the point.

No. The point was that it was finally done. Years of work, docked at Southampton, passengers already funnelling aboard…and Tony was both relishing in the feeling of accomplishment at the Stark father-son project, while also resigning himself to a trip back to New York alongside his father. Yes, that was bound to go really well, he could see it now. If he survived this voyage without wanting to put a barrel to his head at some point, it really would be a damn miracle.

A jostling of his arm is what stirred him, Howard none too lightly nudging at him with his elbow, though Howard’s eyes never once deviated from the ship. “Only so long can we marvel at her exterior. Let’s step up and get a good look now she’s been cleared for the hustle and bustle of her first voyage, Anthony. Come along. D Deck entrance, I don’t want to traverse the crowd that’s marching their way up the main gangway over there.” There’s distaste in the way Howard speaks, and Tony’s eyes flick to the crowd, where third class is bustling to board, pulling along luggage, families scrabbling to cart their children up onto the boat and away from the edges of the gangway where most seem all too willing to clog up the narrow passage just to stick their hands out the sides to wave at the people standing out beyond the docks to watch the Titanic disembark on her maiden voyage.

He isn’t shocked Howard is staring in distaste, really- Tony’s never had any qualms with second or third-class people, but Howard? Howard was elitist, unsurprisingly. It’s one of the many reasons why Tony never handled being around his father for long, and why he often had snuck out to hang about with the men and women down in Brooklyn and Queens, where things were…wilder. _Freer._ More relaxed and not as prim and upper crust as this. Howard was staring at the third-class gangway like he was disturbed (read: disgusted) by them, which honestly, Tony could never come to understand. Most were immigrants, seeking a new start in America. That was mostly good for the economy, wasn’t it?

Tony merely blinked to clear those thoughts away, inclining his head as he turned his eyes to the much less crowded ramp leading up to another entrance midway up on the hull of the ship a little further down. With a slight sigh as his father took off, Tony tread along behind while a set of assistants trailed along with the luggage, given Howard was obviously more interested in meeting the many other people on board and mingling on the A deck than pulling his own things behind him.

Tony wouldn’t lie though- the ship had been unbearably empty before, and he was itching to see it alive and bustling.

Still, he couldn’t help but cast one last glance to the many lining up to make their way up onto the main gangway to the boat deck, before he turned and hastily powered on after his father.

If staring at the exterior of the Titanic was a dream, stepping onto it was another thing entirely. The initial entryway was done in white panelling, mostly barren, apart from the wooden doors with ornate glass panelling directly in front of them, and the hall that lead out to the elevators, which then branched into the first-class reception, which sure enough, was already filled with many people mingling and observing the décor as they chattered between themselves. The Grand Staircase looked as stunning as Tony had thought it would, and god, was it difficult to not outright beam at that. It was difficult to not damn well beam at everything. The room was lavish and gorgeous, everything lining up perfectly to how Tony and Howard had laid it out to be, and the decorators had done a stunning job, honestly, to breathe this kind of life into it.

If it looked like this in first class, Tony was naturally curious and wanted to know what it was like in second and middle class. It was difficult not to be, though he was sure it wouldn’t be as lavish as this. There was a reason first class paid more for their tickets. Not as lavish, but still lavish by any means. This went far beyond the expectations for first class. Tony didn’t think he’d seen an attention to detail this fine, and he had to admit- it was gorgeous. (But, he couldn’t help but add- it was a little much.)

Maybe he was biased - _definitely biased_ \- but who can blame him? His first project since graduating is this, the grandeur that is the RMS Titanic. Not tooting his own horn here, but- ah to hell with it. He was definitely tooting his own fucking horn. _Shamelessly._

“Mr Stark and Mr Stark the younger,” greeted one man, whom Howard immediately turned to address with that winning businessman smile he’d perfected long ago. And Tony? Tony knew the deal. Stand tall, back straight, look polite and sharp, make sure your coattails aren’t tucked in, that your bowtie isn’t skewed, and that you look worthy of the Stark name. Same old, same old. Eyes swivelled to him then, and Tony managed a slight smile as he reached out to take the hand proffered to him by the other.

“You’ve both done a remarkable job. I knew this’d be a good thing to invest in. The ship’s quite the attraction, isn’t it? Your first proper contract too, isn’t it, Tony?”

“It is. A joint partnership with my father just to ease me into it, Mr Stane.”

“Ease? You call this _easing_ you into it? Kid, if you call this easing you into it, I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do in the future. This ship’s spectacular enough as it is, and here you are, saying you’re just getting started.”

The man clapped a hand against Tony’s shoulder, and though Tony smiles, there’s a sourness settling in his gut. Sometimes he wondered if he really did fit in with crowds like this. Sometimes, Tony wonders if the life of the rich and prosperous was really for him when all he’s surrounded with are people like Mr Stane. Well composed presentations of themselves, armoured in suits and ties, or fancy dresses and pinned hair and fascinators. His mind briefly flickered back to a small little club in Brooklyn, dirty, run down, but _alive_ , thrumming with music and dancing feet like a heartbeat, the pulse of the people gathered there a rising and falling constant that you couldn’t ignore.

Yes. Sometimes Tony felt like he didn’t fit in, and here, as people came up to commend them on their work in creating the Titanic as they knew it, it only became even more obvious. Shrewd eyes, curious looks and hungry gazes. That was the life of the first-class world. Call him privileged, say he was being selfish when any person in a worse situation would kill to be in his shoes, but for Tony, it wasn’t about the money, the recognition, the fame. When you had all those things from a young age, perhaps you grew to tire of them, maybe you got too used to the tedium. Maybe.

Maybe that’d come to be for Tony, what he really longed for was individual freedom, no matter the price.

When he got to America, he deserved some time off, surely, but for now, he had business connections and polite conversation to tend to.

“You know how we Starks often start out- with a bang. Besides, my father was around for a majority of the project.”

“Yes, but Anthony needed little help. Seems his education clearly has paid off, the boy knows what he’s doing,” Howard huffed out around a good-natured chuckle. “A majority of the layout in the boiler rooms was Anthony’s doing, not that many here will get to see that, but the heart of the ship burns bright. It’s an efficient layout, and effective for steering this giant of a ship too. Greatest ship in the world, I say, proper luxury, a holiday at sea, unsinkable.”

Tony winced. There the word was again, and Tony resisted the urge to reach out and rap his knuckles against the nearby table. Tony wasn’t worried, don’t get him wrong, he merely loathed inaccuracies.

Unsinkable if multiple compartments weren’t breached. Four compartments could fill with water and there’d be no cause for alarm, but any more than that? Definitely possible, therefore _completely sinkable_. Tony had sat down and done the math over what kinds of pressures this ship could handle, and the numbers were great, yes, but unsinkable? That was a bold claim, and one Tony didn’t agree with, no matter how much press such a brand drew. Still, Howard had insisted on selling the point, again and again, because nothing made good press like a label such as that one.

“It’s amazing, really,” came a new voice, two people ambling over, an older woman with another woman about his age, both with vibrant fiery red hair. “The structure is marvellous.” Strangely enough, it was the younger woman who was speaking- or it would have been strange if Tony hadn’t recognised her immediately.

“Virginia,” Tony greeted, stooping just to playfully graze a kiss over the knuckles of Pepper’s hand, something they’d done since they were kids and had watched their parents do it to some other people they’d met.

“Tony. Really. This is marvellous. Gorgeous.”

“So, it wins the Virginia Potts seal of approval does it? Call off the press, everyone, no need for any more commendations than that. Pack up, head home, we’re done and dusted,” Tony huffed out, amusement tainting every single word. A glance to Howard though had him backpedalling because apparently saying that too loud was enough to garner the Stare of Immense Disapproval, and yes, the capitalisation was, in fact, entirely necessary. “But really, I hope you enjoy your time here. I feel like I worked my own sweat, blood and tears into this thing, and all I did was design, and partially aid in the construction of everything in the boiler rooms.”

“Of course- trust you to get all mechanically savvy.”

“Like you expected anything else.” Tony’s lips twitched up into an idle grin, and Pepper looked fondly amused, tucking a stray wisp of hair back behind her ear, Howard and Stane having been watching the exchange with interested eyes. His father especially. He’d always hoped he and Pepper would settle together, but Tony…no. Maybe in another life. In this one though, Pepper was his dearest, closest friend, and Tony was insistent on keeping it that way, as was Pepper, despite both of their parents' protests on the matter.

At least, Howard’s side for Tony. His mother Maria seemed to have stepped off lately, though Tony couldn’t quite pin why. Maybe she was lulling him into a false sense of security, but whatever it was, it unnerved him.

Just a little.

“Yes, well,” Pepper’s mother, Ruth, interjected with a small little smile that didn’t quite manage to make it to her eyes., “Nevertheless, it’s a remarkable job. Congratulations Howard, Anthony. I presume it wouldn’t be out of the question for us to ask to join you at dinner for friendly conversation. I’m sure many others will be eager to steal you away, but I thought Virginia and I may as well attempt to steal you before they do.”

Howard perked up just as Tony did because _fuck,_ what a saving grace. At least he had Pepper. She’d make the interactions bearable.

“Of course, Ruth. Normal seating time, we’ll see you down here. I’m sure we’ll find a table that suits.”

Pepper and Tony shared a glance at that, twin looks of _oh thank god_ mirrored in two different faces. One more nod was all they could share before Pepper and Ruth were whisked off into the crowd, and another set took their place, couples and individuals alike coming up to commend them. It felt like a small eternity, but it was nice to get recognition. It was a good thing of course, but when you received the same kind of congratulations from each successive person? It was bound to grate on the nerves a bit more than he strictly liked.

Eventually, the number of people swarming them dwindled, the only ones sticking by being the ones Howard had made fast friends with, who he was chatting with idly, already ambling off to toward the stairs, tugging cigars out of his pockets as he moved off with Mr Stane and his other associates, no doubt toward the aft Grand Staircase to head up to deck A to the Smoke Room.

Unsurprising.

That room had been Howard’s favourite idea. Tony’s had been the pool and Turkish bath, but each to their own, right? Either way, Tony wasn’t complaining, because his father not ushering him along with the group meant one thing- he was free to explore, and Tony honestly was all too willing to slip out the room, and down to the E Deck. The wood panelling opened up to a small space, still grand looking until he slipped through the door and out into the main walkway, which almost spanned the entire length of the ship. It was more industrial down here, more cluttered and without the finer details that were prevalent above, but this was still better than most third-class accommodations Tony knew of, but that wasn’t what had Tony pausing. No, what did, was the fact the entire hall length was packed full.

People were shoving by, voices carrying over the distance. Some were slipping into their rooms where several bunks were lined up along walls, fitted with simple sheets and amenities to store personal artefacts, others were cluttering the halls, mingling and chatting. Children were weaving by his legs, some stopping to stare at him, because most first-classers were bound to stay upstairs until this had cleared and everyone was settled in. Tony, in a full tux, with a waistcoat beneath his outer suit coat, bow tie, coattails and slicked back hair, looked like he didn’t belong in this group. Everyone here was running around in plain shirts, slacks and suspenders, or dresses and overcoats and cardigans draped over shoulders and patterned shawls.

The only thing heard above the hustle of the crowd around him was the sound of the horn piercing the air.

Two long, drawn out blasts of the horn to be specific, and Tony knew what that meant.

Leaving berth. The Titanic was moving.

A smile crossed his face then. Onward to France first.  


\---------------------------------------------

  
Dinner wasn’t much different to every other dinner Tony had ever had in the company of others. The dining saloon was familiar in the way that it was ornate, the glasses set out were crystal glasses, the spreads and the company- it felt like home to a degree. Tony was equally as used to quick meals hunched over his workshop counters back home, but this was how his meetings with contractors and investors had usually gone, over fine dining and standard watered-down conversation.

Pepper looked equally as bored as Tony did, but that was hardly shocking at all considering the current round of conversation was on what the best kind of tobacco was. Were there different kinds of tobacco? Clearly Tony wasn’t listening, because he didn’t know, nor was he interested, but Stane seemed very invested in trying to convince Howard that his cigars were far better than most.

Pepper’s elbow nudged against his side then, and Tony startled just slightly, brown orbs flickering up to meet hers, arching a brow at the amusement that coloured her features at his reaction.

“You’re off in your own thoughts again, Tony,” Pepper noted, lips quirked up in a smile as she lifted her glass from the table and to her lips.

“Difficult not to be. Are you paying attention?”

“Not in the slightest, which is why I’m trying to propose we start our own conversation because I don’t think I can last another moment otherwise.”

“Sassy. Alright. What do you want to talk about, Miss Potts?”

Pepper’s eyes lit up, and she launched right into the topics she often preferred, coaxing Tony into talking about his own things, discussing the ship, Pepper’s potential suitor back home (over her dead body, Pepper had vehemently said, the wrinkling of her nose telling everything she thought about that) and many other things. Time seemed to fly by a little more quickly then, all eventually standing and shuffling out of the dining room to the first-class reception again. The band playing in the background made everything seem a little more mellow as people settled in. Many mingled, men moved off to the smoke room to play cards while the women sat in the reception or moved off to bed, and the same could be applied to their group. Howard had his favourite spot in that smoke room, after all.  Pepper said she was retiring to her rooms along with her mother, and that left Tony standing alone at the foot of the stairs for a long moment.

He wasn’t tired though. If anything, he was more awake during the night than he ever was during the day, and that was when the desire struck him. Light pollution was a serious thing everywhere Tony had stayed. The cities seemed to light up at the night well enough that seeing the sky was a little difficult, the stars never quite bright enough. The thought had Tony marching up the stairs, and out to the promenade, following the length of the ship until he found the section of the deck that was separated from the third classers. No one was out here at this time on Tony’s level, but out on the deck below were more than a few mingling groups, most passing about cigarettes and matches as they joked amicably and tugged their jackets around themselves tightly to stave off the biting chill of the wind.

Tony merely opened the gate and then tread down the stairs and past the groups, walking towards the stern of the ship, where he propped his arms up on the railing and tilted his head to look down to where churning white waters bled into black below, only the moonlight cutting through the darkness. He looked up then, where sure enough, the stars speckled the sky, burning bright above him. If the waters had been calmer, it would have looked like the endless black of the sky bled into the ocean, and only the natural rise and fall of the water helped Tony distinguish where the sky met the sea on the horizon. It was gorgeous, and a smile twisted at the edges of his lips as he let his fingers drum against the metal railing.

“You got a light?”

Tony startled, spine snapping straight again as he whirled on his heel as a man slotted himself in at Tony’s side with no warning whatsoever, Tony having been about to caution the other that it was rude and entirely unwarranted to sneak up on people to give them goddamn _heart attacks_ like the one Tony had almost suffered- only to find the words dying on his tongue before he even had a chance to birth them to the air.

Why? Simple.

The man was exceedingly attractive.

Yes, yet another reason why Tony never quite got along with the upper class. Thinking of another man like that was taboo in the most extreme way. At least when Tony ran off to hang about in dirty, shady looking spots, no one cared what you were, including your sexual preferences. Some still were biased, naturally, but most accepted it at best or turned a blind eye to it at the worst, while in the upper classes it was shunned, something worth kicking someone out of the elite over so they didn’t dirty the rest of them with their unholy desires. Like Tony gave a fuck, he was probably already going to hell, honestly. The point was- the man was attractive, and Tony was speechless.

It wasn’t exactly his fault either, because he was sure anyone who wasn’t mostly blind would agree with him, because this stranger was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Maybe the moonlight added a kind of unfair advantage to that too, giving him a look of ethereal beauty to his already stunning profile, but damn, that jawline was worth swooning over, and coupled with those eyes? It was a wonder Tony was still functioning. Because he was functioning. He wasn’t pausing or halting or freezing. No. Definitely not.

A look of amusement danced over the features of the other man’s face then, as he leant forward to balance his elbows atop the metal railing. “Earth to the one lookin’ all posh. Hello? Anyone home in there? You look like someone slapped ya with a fish, sweetheart.”

Tony coughed to clear his throat, averting his eyes as he schooled his features into blankness once more. “I heard, I was just trying to get over the shock that almost killed me when you popped out of the darkness like a ghoul the overly superstitious still claim stalk the nights. Christ alive. Give a man a momentary break when you do things like that. I wasn’t exactly expecting company. As for your original question? I don’t smoke.”

“Could tell that. If you were, you’d be up on the fancy deck, waiting for a fancy dame to stroll along, not down here. Shame you don’t have a light though. God knows most of the guys over there have burnt out their matches for the night.”

“Very unfortunate,” Tony agreed, though he didn’t expand on that any further as he brushed his hands down over his lapels before settling back into the same position he’d abandoned at the other coming along- and yet, even as the silence stretched, the stranger didn’t leave. All the man did was shift to plant his cigarette between his lips, even if it wasn’t lit and he wasn’t smoking the damn thing.

Tony’s eyes flickered to the man briefly, a careful moment that the stranger seemed to notice considering those blue-grey eyes met his own, and a smile twitched at the edges of full lips.

“You look like you could use some silent company,” the man answered for him, clearly having picked up on Tony’s look of questioning.

“Why?”

“It’s not like either of us have got someone round to stare into the sea with. Besides- the set of guys are starin’ at you funny. Did ever since you walked across the deck.”

“Really? Well. Two reasons for that. Either I was inches away from being mugged, or they recognised me.”

“Recognised you? You someone important then?”

Tony paused at that. Someone who didn’t have a clue who he was. That was...refreshing, actually. He should have expected that, not everyone could know, even if they were passengers on the ship Tony had helped create. He shouldn’t expect people to know him at a glance, really, that was more than a bit pretentious, and Tony had no desire to be a thing like his father, thank you very much.

“No. Technically my dad’s the important one. Me? I’m just Tony.” Maybe that was a white lie, but if Tony could have one moment of normality, he would damn well take it.

The stranger merely grinned right back, and offered a hand toward Tony, as he stood tall and used his other hand to brush back through his wayward locks that sat in a tumble of waves atop his head. “Bucky. M’name’s Bucky. Real nice to meet you, just Tony.”

Tony’s mouth twitched up into a smile, but he reached forward regardless, clasping Bucky’s hand in his own, and shaking twice before he let go again. “So… how’d you get a name like _Bucky?”_

“Oh, hush it, like you don’t have an upper-crust name behind _Tony._ Mine’s James Buchanan. Bucky’s from Buchanan, but I can’t walk around going ‘Yeah, nice to meet ya, my name’s James Buchanan mother fuckin’ Barnes, real nice to meet you, sugar.’”

Tony choked back his laughter and veiled it behind an indignant little sniff. “Not as pretentious as yours. Anthony Edward. It’s survivable. Buchanan is the real curse. Mother fucking is the kicker though.”

Bucky seemed to blink a little at how flippantly Tony cursed, but, it seemed the other knew already that Tony wasn’t quite as pretentious as the rest, so he didn’t comment, taking it in his stride with ease. That comment made the other groan then, tipping his head back and exposing the slope of his throat as he half glared at the moon shining above them. “You’re tellin’ me. Don’t know what my Ma was thinkin’, calling me that. I’ll tell you though- gets a lot of attention.”

“I’ll bet it does. Here’s a….Brooklyn boy, working class, with messy hair and roguish looks and a charming smile to pair with it. You’re expecting a name, you’re waiting with bated breath- what will it be? Alex? A Steve, maybe? No, it’s James. Plain, simple- wait, James _Buchanan?_ Not so plain now, now that’s a mouthful. An attractive mouthful, but still a mouthful anyway-“

“Alright, alright! I got it, ha ha. You’re a joker, huh? Gotta admit, it’s nice to see- I expect people wearing suits worth a year’s worth of my rent to be a bit stiffer upper lipped. No offence.”

“None taken. Most up there fit that description. The Brits would call them twats.”

“And us Americans would just call ‘em assholes, doll.”

“Mm, and personally, I agree with both those descriptions and many more.”

“Seems like you’re pretty down to earth.”

“Or, I’m just not an asshole?”

“Both can be interchangeable. Both apply, I think.”

“Possibly, or better yet, por que no los dos?”

“I have….no idea what the fuck you just said then.”

“Why not both. In Spanish.”

“Why the hell didn’t you just say it in English?”

Tony cast a bemused look to the other, who was staring at him like he’d sprouted another head or something, perplexed and confused all at once. “Because what’s the fun in that. Your expression alone makes me want to screw around with the way I talk. You look like a startled deer.”

“ _Startled deer?”_

“It’s the eyes. Big, globe eyes.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by the globe eyed comment. Least you didn’t say bug-eyed I guess,” Bucky allowed, shrugging his left shoulder half-heartedly as Tony turned his gaze back to the sea, watching the way the moonlight glimmered off the constantly in motion waves below, ebbing and flowing wherever the foamy disturbed water from the propellers wasn’t hitting.

“Do people call you bug-eyed, Brooklyn?”

“Eh, depends on which friend you’re askin’. I got plenty, each one of ‘em has an outrageous nickname for everyone else. I mean, we unanimously agree on some- Dum Dum, for example.”

“Dum Dum?”

“Sometimes he asks real stupid questions,” Bucky offered as explanation, lips stretching into a grin. Damn it, if the guy turned on the charm any more, Tony might swoon right over the safety rail at this rate. It was a wonder he was managing to keep his cool. Hell, it was his problem, the other was probably interested in women anyhow, especially with a face and body like that. The whole package. If he had money, he was sure Bucky would have been snapped up long ago.

“Fair, I’ll allow that.  My best friends’ name is James too, James Rhodes. I call him an assortment of nicknames, simply because every one is rewarded with the steely-eyed ‘why do I put up with you again?’ look. It’s worth it. Rhodey, Rhodey-bear, honey-bear, platypus, sour patch, apple pie, Rupert, Rupie, Ruru. The last ones honestly make his eye twitch. He has a hatred for his middle name.”

“Oh my god. I take back the you’re not an asshole thing, because that’s…the most punk ass shit I’ve ever heard. And I got a friend who I thought was bad,” Bucky murmured, placing a hand over his heart and doing his best to look honestly concerned, even if his eyes were glittering with mirth.

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m taking it as one anyway, thank you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Really, Buckaroo? Because I’m doing it regardless.”

“Buckaroo?”

“It’s all I got for the moment. I don’t know you well enough to target a good one, but you wait, I’ll get there, I’m quick on the draw.”

“I hope so. You look quick on your toes, I mean that literally and figuratively.” Bucky looked up to him then, a slow, methodical glance from head to toe, Tony watching on in attempt to decipher the look that Bucky was sending him. Apparently, Bucky was taking a second to look at Tony the way Tony had initially looked at him, By the time Bucky’s eyes rose to meet his own once more, Tony was smiling, one brow arched in silent question. Maybe. Just maybe, he allowed himself to think, though he stomped down on ay hope before it had a chance to really bloom.

“You see something you like there?”

“Oh, I think I do.”

“Anthony!” Tony snapped from his train of thought, head snapping towards the deck, where sure enough, his father was already standing, cigar alight, and Obadiah and another set of unnamed (or more accurately, people’s names he’d forgotten already) men milling about behind him. “Come up here, boy!”

Ah fuck.

Right. Mingling with the ‘common people’ was definitely going to get him a talking to. He wasn’t a child anymore, but his father was still an overbearing, unwanted presence in every aspect of Tony’s social life. “Guess that’s my call. Got to go now and play the part again. Goodbye, James Buchanan.”

“Bye, Anthony Edward. Maybe next time if I catch you out here, you’ll have a light on ya.”

Tony paused, having just turned away to make his way across the deck, turning his head just so. The potential to meet again, that’s what that was, an offer. “Perhaps I will,” is all Tony said in response, words fading on the cold wind, leaving nothing more than the click of Italian leather Oxford shoes ringing across the deck and a lingering promise behind him.


End file.
